


miserable and magical

by cjmasim



Series: need you like cake on my birthday [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Baking, Birthday Cake, Birthday Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Taylor Swift - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 14:45:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16327994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjmasim/pseuds/cjmasim
Summary: If anyone asks, which Jake probably will, it was Pasta's idea.–Charlie, Pasta, and Jake celebrate Jake's birthday together. Chaos ensues.





	miserable and magical

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a little something for Jake's birthday, and I originally planned on writing a drabble and just posting it to tumblr, but things got out of hand. Most of this was written in the early hours of the morning on very little sleep, so do with that what you will. 
> 
> I'm not sure how I ended up writing a whole fic loosely based around a Taylor Swift song when I don't even listen to her that much, but it happened. I also realized that the song is over 6 years old now, so that was a bit of a shocking revelation.
> 
> As usual, if you see your own name in this fic, it's probably best not to read it. Obviously, this is all fiction.
> 
> Enjoy!

If anyone asks, which Jake probably will, it was Pasta's idea. 

Charlie assumes the idea came to him when they were driving home from Saturday's game and _Look What You Made Me Do_ came on the radio. Pasta had been sending him weird looks, and Charlie had assumed that he had just been silently questioning why Charlie knows every word, but now, he's not so sure. (If that had been the case, he reasons now, Pasta definitely would've just made fun of him out loud. He's not shy.)

It had been difficult to get some alone time - it usually is, in this relationship - but eventually, Jake's dad had called, and as soon as he retreated to the bedroom, Pasta had breathed a sigh of relief and explained the plan. He never asked Charlie; he's confident enough in his own dumb ideas that he's never seen the need, but Charlie goes along with it anyway. He always does.

And that's how Charlie finds himself in the kitchen at 6:00 in the morning on Sunday baking a cake with Pasta. His sleep-fogged brain thinks that that sentence would be absolutely hilarious to someone who doesn't know that Pasta's a nickname, but then again, maybe a cake made out of pasta would actually be good? They should try that sometime; in fact, he should tell Pasta right now.

"Hey-" Charlie stops himself. _Right_. It's 6:00 in the morning. Jake is sleeping. They're supposed to be quiet. "Sorry," he whispers. "I'll tell you another time."

He turns back to the bowl, trying to focus his attention on the task at hand. He knows he has to mix the batter, but did he add the eggs yet? How many eggs was it again-?

Charlie takes another sip of coffee. He's starting to think that this _may_ not have been their best idea. He looks down at the bowl, and yeah, no, it's literally just powder and some water. He's, like, 99% sure there aren't any eggs in there yet. He takes another look at the instructions and determines that he needs three eggs. Charlie turns around, about to grab some from the refrigerator, and walks straight into Pasta.

Naturally, Pasta had been holding the three eggs, all of which fall to the ground and splatter, but it's okay. They can worry about that later. Charlie tries to hold in his laughter, careful not to wake up Jake, and Pasta does the same. They avoid each other's eyes, knowing that acknowledging it will only make their laughter harder to contain. Charlie opens the refrigerator and takes the last three eggs, grateful that he decided not to have an omelet for breakfast yesterday. 

He cracks the eggs and mixes them in without further incident, and after adding a few more ingredients, the batter is ready to be poured into the pan. Pasta handles this part, and Charlie's pretty sure he does it right, so now all they have to do is wait. And make sure Jake doesn't wake up, of course, but he'd been up until 3:00 playing Fortnite, so they're not too concerned about that, not for a few hours, anyway. 

Normally, passing an hour with Pasta would be easy for Charlie. There's never a dull moment with his boyfriend - with either of them, really - but it's a lot harder when they have to be quiet. They try whispering a conversation, but a few sentences later, Charlie's whisper-yelling at Pasta that he's whispering too loud and they're going to wake up Jake, and really, it's just not working. Charlie admits this first, and resigns himself to spending the rest of the hour learning Czech on Duolingo. He's proud of his ability to say such useful sentences as "the woman eats an apple", but it's becoming quite tiresome, and it probably isn't a bad idea to start furthering his vocabulary, maybe even get a streak going. "The woman eats an apple" probably isn't going to cut it when he tries to drive Pasta crazy in bed. Well, he hopes not, anyway. 

Pasta puts in his own earbuds, sitting pressed against Charlie on the couch, aimlessly watching flat Earth conspiracy videos on YouTube. Pasta and Jake think they're hilarious, and though Charlie doesn't really get the humor, he does love to see them laugh.

They definitely should have known better than to put in earbuds while waiting for the timer to go off. 

It's not as disastrous as it could have been, which is to say that they don't start a fire. The smoke alarm doesn't even go off, and Charlie has to think that counts as progress after that one time in college. Really, the cake isn't even burnt; the kitchen timer is loud enough to catch their attention, and Pasta runs to the kitchen to grab the cake before it's too late. (Thankfully, he doesn't drop it in his haste.) 

The _problem_ is that the kitchen timer is loud enough to catch their attention. If it's loud enough to wake them up, it's loud enough to wake Jake up, and sure enough, as Charlie inches open the bedroom door for damage control, he hears a groan and a mumbled "Where are you guys?"

He crosses the room, crawling back into bed and wrapping his arms around Jake. "Go back to sleep, babe," he says softly. "It's too early. Sleep in."

"Why are you wearing clothes?" Jake mumbles, eyes open just enough to tell that Charlie has definitely been awake for a while.

"Just go to sleep," Charlie says, and Jake closes his eyes. 

_Thank God for Fortnite_ , Charlie thinks, not for the first time, as Jake's breathing evens out.

Once Charlie's sure Jake isn't going to wake up again - and okay, sure, fine, maybe he stays a little longer than necessary, but Jake is adorable when he sleeps and Charlie can't help it - he leaves the room. It's been close to ten minutes since the timer went off, and Pasta's already gotten to work on decorating the cake without him, which – _shit_.

"Pasta!" Charlie whisper-yells. "You're supposed to wait for it to cool off!"

Pasta's eyes widen, and he stops squeezing frosting out of the tube. 

"Huh," he says, then reverts back to a whisper. "That explains why this, uh…"

Charlie steps closer, bracing himself to assess the damage, and yeah, it's pretty bad. The cake was _supposed_ to bear an image of Taylor Swift in a Bruins jersey, since it's Jake's 22nd birthday and there's no better way to celebrate than with an outdated pop song about the occasion. In reality, the cake is just a runny mess of yellow, black, and orange frosting that looks far more appropriate for a Halloween-themed cake decorated by a four-year-old. Maybe even a Gritty-themed cake.

Needless to say, the cake is well past the point of salvation, and they don't have any extra eggs, so this is just what they're going to have to live with. 

-

Because Jake is a fucking idiot, he loves the cake - like, actually, genuinely loves it. By the time they're done with it, it's just a colorful mess with a barely legible "22" pieced together with what was left of the black frosting, and Pasta has to explain what he had been hoping to achieve with it, but Jake is overwhelmed by the fact that they made him a cake in the first place. 

"Honestly," Jake says, mouth full of cake. "It's for the best. If the cake looked too good, I would've had to post it on Insta, and then Bruce would know about this. Which he's never going to."

"Oh no," Charlie agrees instantly.

"Never," Pasta adds. 

-

They arrive in Calgary late Tuesday night, too late for Jake to spend any quality time with his family, so he elects to stay in the hotel with his boyfriends. They don't want to stay up too late, knowing they'll need to be prepared for the game tomorrow, so they decide to just cuddle and listen to Taylor Swift.

Again, Pasta's idea.

"I fucking hate you guys," Jake says when _22_ comes on.

"Love you too," Pasta grins.

Charlie grins at them both and begins to sing along, Pasta joining in almost instantly, and by the time the chorus hits, Jake joins in. They keep it up for a few more songs, but when _Teardrops on My Guitar_ comes on, Pasta starts to doze off, and Jake suggests that they call it a night. 

-

By the time Charlie wakes up, he's the only one left in bed. Pasta is sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through something on his phone that Charlie can't see, and Jake is rummaging through his suitcase frantically without a shirt on. It's unusual to see Jake out of bed before him, but Charlie appreciates the view.

"What're you looking for?" Charlie asks after a moment of watching him grow more frantic.

"I don't know what to wear," Jake says, throwing the shirt that was in his hand back into the suitcase.

"I like the way you are now," Pasta says, looking up from his phone with a grin.

"You'll get to see even more later," Jake says. Pasta whines, but Jake ignores him, continuing to speak. "Seriously, do I wear the blue shirt, the red shirt, or the black shirt?"

"You're having this much of a dilemma over three plain shirts?" Charlie asks, sitting up.

Pasta gets up as well, throwing his phone down on the bed and going to grab his own suitcase. He opens it, reaches in, and without even looking, pulls out a black hoodie. Charlie can't see it very well since it's folded up, but he's pretty sure he knows what it is.

"Wear this," Pasta says, throwing the hoodie at Jake without warning. Jake catches it, and as he unfolds the hoodie, Charlie can see the white text on the front.

Givenchy, of course. In the seven months they've been dating, Charlie can count on one hand the number of days Pasta has gone without wearing the brand. 

"I don't know," Jake says, examining the hoodie. "This isn't really _me_."

"It's better than a plain shirt, and will look nice," Pasta says. "Just put it on."

Jake shrugs and does as he's told. Charlie has to admit that it's a good look - more than that; it's _really_ hot. Jake looks incredible in Pasta's clothing, and Charlie is really into it.

"You look hot," Charlie tells him, and he can feel that his face _might_ be a little flushed. 

"I look like Pasta," Jake says.

"Hey!"

"I'm kidding," Jake says, laughing. "You know I love it when you wear your dumbass designer brands, and you look hot in them. I still think the blue shirt works better with my eyes, but this is nice. I like it."

"You're just saying that because it smells like Pasta," Charlie says, and Jake throws the blue shirt at him. 

It's a little tight, but he ends up wearing it all morning.

-

They don't get much time together after morning skate, since Jake's parents are in town and he's spending the afternoon with them. Charlie and Pasta hang out in the hotel together, since there's not much else to do in Calgary, and eventually, Jake returns, joining them for a pregame nap.

After the game, they have to head to Edmonton, and by the time they arrive, it's late. Charlie isn't tired, though.

When they make it to the hotel room, it is apparent that neither Jake nor Pasta is tired, either, and none of them have forgotten their conversation that morning.

"Fuck," Pasta says once he's thrown down his suitcase. "You guys were so hot sharing clothes." He takes off his suit jacket, Charlie and Jake following his lead. "It's Jake's birthday," Pasta adds. "Need to celebrate."

Charlie turns toward Jake, meeting his eyes and silently asking for permission before undoing the buttons on his shirt, one by one, reaching a hand around his waist as soon as he can fit it in. Pasta comes over and stands on Jake's other side, undoing his belt and sliding his pants down before leading them all to the bed.

"Gonna make you feel so good," Pasta says.

"As long as I can walk tomorrow," Jake grins. 

"I'll be gentle," Charlie promises. "Well, as much as I can be."

"Fuck," Jake moans. "Just get your clothes off already."

Charlie obeys, getting to work on his own shirt buttons while Jake reaches for his pants, and on the other side of him, Pasta takes off his own clothes. When they're all undressed, he kneels in front of Jake, placing one hand on his thigh, waiting as Charlie gets out the lube and condoms. 

"Whenever you're ready," Charlie says.

"I'm ready," Jake says.

"Wait," Pasta cuts in. "Shouldn't we sing happy birthday first?"

"You can't be serious," Jake whines. 

"Oh, we're serious," Charlie says, beginning to sing, and Pasta joins in. Jake tries to act annoyed the whole time, but by the end, he's smiling along with them, even pretending to blow out candles that aren't there. It's easily the strangest thing Charlie has ever done during foreplay, even if Pasta's acting like it's nothing out of the ordinary, but the end result is well worth it. 

-

There isn't a whole lot to do in Edmonton, especially not as NHL players who would rather avoid being recognized, but Jake takes Charlie and Pasta out for lunch at one of his favorite Italian restaurants anyway. They get a secluded table in a back corner, and while they can't risk too much PDA, they can get away with some. The food, at least in Charlie's opinion, is amazing, much better than he had honestly expected to find here. He doesn't have anything against Edmonton, really, but it's not New York or Boston. 

It's a nice change of pace for the three of them, being in a location that's so special. Boston is amazing, and it's become a second home to all of them, but there's just something about being home when they spend so much time away. There's a certain glow to Jake that makes Charlie's heart feel full; he seems even more light-hearted than usual, and he's usually a pretty cheerful guy. It's clear that he's happy to be home, especially on his birthday, and Charlie knows that he hasn't had that in years. 

"So Jake," Pasta says, putting down his fork. He's finished his plate - Jake likes to say that he eats pasta faster than everyone else because it's just like water to him, whatever that means - though he's the only one who has. "How are you feeling?"

Jake shrugs, swallowing his food. "Good?"

"No, I mean, how does it feel to be twenty-two?" Charlie groans, and Pasta raises an eyebrow at him. "I don't know about you…"

Jake grins. "But I'm feeling twenty-two," he says, having caught on.

"I hate you both," Charlie announces, but he can't keep a straight face. Pasta is the first to start laughing, and once they all start, it's like they can't stop. Even when the waiter comes over to ask about dessert, Jake tries to regain his composure, but one look at Charlie and he just can't. The waiter leaves without another word, judgment written plainly on his face, and it just sends them into another fit of laughter. 

They finally leave the restaurant, without getting dessert, though Pasta wanted it, partly because it's a game day, mostly because Jake insists that even dessert at his favorite restaurant can't live up to the botched Taylor Swift cake. It's already time to head back to the hotel for their pregame nap, so Pasta calls an Uber.

As soon as he gets into the car, Charlie just knows what's going to happen. Their driver is a middle-aged woman who chooses to play nothing but early 2010s pop songs in her car, and though _What Makes You Beautiful_ is playing when they first get in the car, and _As Long As You Love Me_ after that, it's only a matter of time before it comes on.

Justin Bieber sings one last note, Pasta pretending not to be singing along on the other side of the backseat, and sure enough, Charlie hears the first few notes. He sighs, resigning himself to his fate. He's only doing this to beat Pasta at his own game, he thinks as he begins to sing along, leading Jake and Pasta to do the same.

"It feels like a perfect night…"

The driver, to her credit, doesn't judge them like the waiter from earlier. At one point, Charlie swears she even starts to sing along, too, though it's a bit hard to hear over his overenthusiastic boyfriends. Pasta's even rolled down the window to scream the lyrics at strangers walking the streets, and Jake is nudging Charlie to roll down his own window so they can join in. Charlie obliges, and it's dumb, and people are giving them all kinds of weird looks, but he looks back at Jake and sees such a wide, bright smile on his face. Charlie doesn't know much about science, but he thinks Jake's smile must be warm enough to keep the Earth habitable long after the sun burns out. He looks over to Pasta, seeing that he, too, is watching Jake fondly, and he realizes that there is nowhere else he would rather be than sitting in this car screaming the lyrics to a Taylor Swift song with his boyfriends. It's ridiculous, and unnecessary, and maybe even a little immature, but it's theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow me on [tumblr](http://www.cjmasim.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
